


Listen, I’ve come to rock this boat

by jucee



Category: Bleach
Genre: Blood, Gen, random body parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 12:16:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how Yachiru became vice-captain of the Eleventh Division.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Listen, I’ve come to rock this boat

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from _Mothers, Sisters, Daughters, and Wives_ by Voxtrot.

“You need a vice-captain.”

“Vice-captain?” Zaraki grunts, wiping blood off of his hands with an already blood-soaked cloth. His sword lies on the ground beside him, chipped and nameless; the tattered captain’s robe is draped over his shoulders, ill-fitting and blood-stained.

“Here Ken-chan, a clean one!” Yachiru chirps, and holds up some fabric covered in what looks like bits of cut-up intestines.

“Thanks.” He swaps the cloths and keeps wiping at the blood, though it doesn’t seem to clean away.

“As I was saying,” Yumichika says primly, holding his kimono out of the way of stray drops of blood, “You need to pick a vice-captain. And nominate seated officers, though I suppose you could always keep the ones that are already there. If they don’t suck too much.”

Zaraki looks at him blankly. “I don’t care about that shit.”

“Uh… but you’re a captain now? I think it comes with the territory, boss,” Ikkaku says. He kicks at the body on the ground, as if to check that the former captain is really dead. The body flops over from the force of the kick, and all of the Eleventh Division members gasp collectively. Then... nothing. Yep, he’s really dead.

“I don’t give a fuck who the vice-captain or whoever is, just as long as it’s someone that doesn’t piss me off and make me wanna slice them up,” Zaraki mutters.

Yumichika and Ikkaku glance around at the circle of shinigami that is slowly backing away from the group in the centre, and then they look at each other. A long and drawn-out argument takes place with just their eyes, which Yumichika inevitably wins. So he suggests, “How about Yachiru?”

“What about her?” Zaraki growls.

Yachiru looks up from the eyeball that she’s poking at on the ground. “Hm? What about me?”

“You can be the vice-captain of the Eleventh Division,” Yumichika says, and pulls her away from the eyeball. He winces when Yachiru wipes her bloody hands on his kimono, but then he’s pretty used to it; he doesn’t have a single set of clothes that isn’t stained with blood or baby spit-up.

“What’s that, Yumi-Yumi? Is it a game?”

“Sort of,” Yumichika hedges, and throws a sharp elbow into Ikkaku’s stomach when Ikkaku nudges him warningly in the side. “You’ll get to stay with Zaraki all the time, the way you do now, and you can tell all of these guys--” he waves a hand airily at the hundreds of shinigami surrounding them, “--to do whatever you want them to, and you can have as much candy as you want--”

“Candy!” Yachiru squeals, her eyes lighting up. 

“Well, that’s settled then,” Yumichika says, a trifle smugly, and throws another elbow into Ikkaku’s stomach for not trusting him to sort it out. And also just because he can.

“Fuck, you got bony elbows,” Ikkaku grumbles, and shoves at him half-heartedly. “Just for that, I got dibs on the third seat position. You can be fourth.”

“Fourth?” Yumichika’s brow wrinkles. “‘Four’ is such an ugly number. I like ‘five’ much better.”

“Fine, whatever. You can be five or six or one hundred, I don’t give a shit,” Zaraki says. He tosses the extremely dirty cloth to the ground and stands up, covered in only half as much blood as before. “I want a hot bath, and food.”

“Food!” Yachiru squeals with only slightly less enthusiasm as she did for candy; Yumichika looks forward to being able to see her eat three meals a day. “Let’s eat, Ken-chan!”

“Bath first, then food,” Yumichika says sternly to both of them, and at a wave of his hand four or five shinigami rush forward to show Zaraki and Yachiru the way to their new quarters.

“I could probably do with a bath too,” Ikkaku says, sniffing suspiciously at himself.

“You could always do with a bath,” Yumichika answers distractedly. He gestures to another group of shinigami, who practically trip over their own feet in their rush to do his bidding, and he gives them instructions for informing the captain commander of recent events and for disposing of the body. The former vice-captain looks incredibly relieved not to be dead -- or perhaps that he won’t have to work beside Zaraki every day -- and gives up his armband with more haste than dignity.

From somewhere inside the Eleventh Division barracks, Yachiru laughs happily; she’s probably found the food.

“We did the right thing, didn’t we?” Yumichika asks, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it said out loud.

“Yeah,” Ikkaku replies. “We did good.”


End file.
